


Through the night (we'll make it)

by elareine



Series: Advent Calendar 2019 [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Multi, Slice of Life, Trauma, if your life is that of a bat vigilante
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:33:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21634459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elareine/pseuds/elareine
Summary: Different people need different types of comfort.
Relationships: Tim Drake/Dick Grayson/Jason Todd/Damian Wayne
Series: Advent Calendar 2019 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558834
Comments: 1
Kudos: 216





	Through the night (we'll make it)

**Author's Note:**

> Advent calendar day four: Hurt/Comfort.

It was fine, really. Just another day of trying so hard and not being enough, just like every day. 

Ouch, that sounded bitter. Dick chided himself even as he dragged himself to the safehouse Jason had been using last. All he needed was a good night’s sleep, he thought, and then he would feel better. 

The scene that greeted him was tranquil. Jason was reading, with Tim and Damian tapping away at their laptops, probably completing case- and homework, respectively. 

“Hey,” Dick called out half-heartedly in greeting. It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy to see them. He was. That’s why he had come here, after all. 

He was just so, so tired. 

Jason took one look at Dick, put away his book, and opened his arms. “C’mere, babe.” 

Dick stepped into them gratefully, finding himself enveloped into so tightly a hug he could not help but relax into it. Jason, he knew, wouldn’t let him go. 

When Dick began to shiver despite the heat Jason reliably gave off, a soft blanket was draped over him. There was some whispering that Dick didn’t bother to follow, and then Jason pressed a kiss to his hair. “Let’s get you into bed, hmm?” 

Dick nodded, trying to extract himself from the embrace with some effort. Jason would have none of it, though, picking him up as if he weighed nothing, only setting him down when they had reached the bedroom.

Now there were other hands, too, undressing him gently; nothing sexual about it, just making sure he would be comfortable. All the while, Jason never once fully let go of him, and when they were done, he lifted Dick again, carrying him over to their bed. 

As soon as they were settled, Dick heard Tim murmur something soft, then creep in behind him, slinging an arm around Dick’s waist and pressing a gentle kiss to his nape. Damian turned off the lights and joined them mere seconds later. He wound up mostly on top of Jason, too, his arms and legs flung over Dick’s. 

“Good?” Jason asked, his voice low.

Dick smiled. “The best.” 

Like this, life didn’t feel like such a heavy burden anymore. 

—

Grief had a way of sneaking up on you. Tim was no stranger to it, yet it still managed to surprise him from time to time. 

At least his day was busy. Kick some ass at night, grab an hour of sleep at so at Jason’s safehouse, drink too much coffee, head out, play at being a Drake-Wayne for most of the day, inhale some dinner and go out and kick ass again. 

If only there were more ass to kick. For once, Tim would’ve welcomed a sleepless night, but noooo, Gotham’s criminals chose that exact day to be slackers. By midnight, even Batman had given up for the night. 

There was nothing for it but head home. Tim was already trying to decide how he would occupy himself until morning. There was that one case file he’d been meaning to take a second look at. Star Trek Discovery was surely due a rewatch before the new season came out. Hell, Jason had been raving about that one book he’d read, maybe Tim would watch the movie adaptation. 

But when he returned to his apartment, the lights were on and the security system turned off. Inwardly, Tim groaned. Great. Dick would want to talk about it, and Tim really, really didn’t. 

Talking had never brought anyone back from the dead. Their little group should know that better than anyone. 

Still, he put on a smile as he entered. Dick and Damian were lounging on the couch and greeted him with some surprisingly cheery waves. 

“Yo, Tim,” Jason called from the kitchen. What he was doing there was a mystery to Tim. The last time he’d been grocery shopping had been… weeks ago. Ooops. “The brat has something for you.” 

Tim looked down. Damian was basically shoving a controller into his hands. “I found a way to get the Nintendo 64 working again,” he announced, looking so proud of himself. “You’re always saying it’s the best.” 

“It is,” Tim said, perking up. “Wait, did you get—” 

“Mario Cart?” Dick pulled out the grey precursor to a disk out of… somewhere—Tim wasn’t really sure, and one never knew with that man—and threw it over to Damian, who caught it with a grin. 

“Race you?” 

Tim knew—he just  _ knew _ —that the minute he would sit down on that couch, Dick would pull him into his lap, closely followed by Damian, because the brat could never not be part of anything. Jason would probably keep his distance and just throw popcorn at them or something. It would be noisy and loud and competitive as fuck. 

It sounded perfect. “Loser has to be first to try whatever Jason’s cooking up.” 

“Hey!” 

—

Damian’s vision was swirling. 

This wasn’t good, he acknowledged. He should possibly have waited for backup. But then those criminals would have kept that child in their clutches for an hour longer, and to Damian, that was unacceptable. 

So he had essentially made peace with the fact that he was currently lying on the floor of a dirty warehouse with what was likely a concussion and a shoulder that was throbbing rather suspiciously. 

Behind him, there was the distinct sound of the door being kicked open. Damian wished he had the strength left to see if it was his reinforcements or the rest of the gang, coming to finish him. 

“Fuck.” That would be Jason, then.

Seconds later, Dick’s face, worried even behind the domino, hovered over Damian’s. “Robin? Are you okay?” 

What a stupid question. Damian would tell him so. Any minute now. 

Dick pulled off his Nightwing gloves, then began checking Damian over for any injuries beyond the obvious. There were some scuffling noises and a few low curses, then Jason joined them, taking off his helmet to reveal the domino beneath. 

Damian appreciated the gesture. He knew Jason would not do that unless the situation was absolutely under control. 

“A concussion and some nice bruises,” Jason finally concluded. “But man, nothing compared to what you gave those guys, babybat. Pretty sure they’ll be collecting their teeth for weeks to come.” 

Damian tried to focus. “Are they—” 

“You did good,” Dick told him, smiling. “The kid’s fine. Red Robin is delivering him and those thugs to the police as we speak.” 

“He says not to hurt me too much,” Jason added. 

Damian frowned. “No, he didn’t. And why would I—ouch!” Betrayed into the noise by surprise, he just about kicked Jason into the stomach on reflex. 

“Sorry,” Dick told him apologetically even as Jason coughed behind him in pain. “That shoulder had to be set.” 

Damian grumbled, but let it go. At least Jason was already suffering the consequences of his rash actions. 

With a soft thud, Tim landed beside them. “Cargo delivered,” he reported. “How are you feeling, Dami?” 

“Hard to focus,” Damian admitted. The days of having to posture in front of the others were long past. “Otherwise, I’m fine.” 

“Let’s get you home and checked out,” Dick suggested, lifting Dami up onto his back as if he was still twelve. 

“He can walk himself home,” Jason griped behind them. “Look what he did to my stomach.” 

Damian was sure Tim was rolling his eyes behind the cowl. “Ah, yes, your poor stomach. How will those abs ever recover.” 

“Ha, I knew you liked them!” 

Damian could feel Dick chuckle underneath him, and despite nausea starting to make itself known deep in his stomach, he couldn’t help but laugh, too. 

—

For once, Jason didn’t wake up screaming. 

It was worse than that. 

He had to claw his way out of that dream, back to a reality that he still wasn’t sure was his most days. It was a fight, more bloody than any battlefield he had ever stood on, and Jason never knew when he might lose it again. 

Distantly, he was glad his lovers had learned not to touch him when he was like this. Once, Dick had made the mistake of trying to hold Jason down the way he himself liked to be, and Jason had just about choked him out. That hadn’t improved the situation for anyone. 

Slowly, slowly, Jason took stock of his surroundings. He was on his side, curled up as if to protect himself from blows. The lights were on. The room was quiet, but he was not alone. 

Tim had turned his laptop on the nightstand so Jason could see it every time he opened his eyes, displaying the surveillance footage of the cameras around this house in real-time. Jason could feel him sitting right behind him, a silent presence guarding his back. 

Only now did Jason allow himself to notice that he was shivering. He was freezing, and the blanket on top of him did nothing to help. 

Damian, he knew, would be just as cold. It was no comfort, just a fact. It was good that he was sitting with Dick, back to back, one of them guarding the door, the other the only window. Jason could see a glint of steel next to them. They were armed. 

“I have some heating pads,” Tim told him softly. “Okay if I hand them to you?” 

Jason had to actually consider that. Some nights, he preferred the cold to the heat of—the heat. “Yes.” 

“Here’s one.” Tim gingerly reached over to Jason’s front, taking care not to touch him. “And here’s the other.” 

Jason shoved one of them down to his stomach, to alleviate the cramps this tension would inevitably cause. The other, though, he kept clutched into his hand, holding on for life. 

Tim settled in behind him again. No one spoke. 

With his lovers protecting him, twin points of heat slowly warming the ice in his chest, Jason thought he might just make it through the night. 


End file.
